From deep inside his pocket
Clutched tenderly
like the memories themselves
Faded and worn

Hands etched with time
the maestro tools
busily flattening each crease
reliving moment by moment
with each gingerly applied caress

How many years
this captured moment
occupied it’s treasured place
amongst his most precious items

A farm once loved in Ireland
where his heart still dwells
Trapped by circumstance
in between worlds
sharing loyalties

Far away eyes alone
tell the tale
with the quickness of it’s reveal
the well worn memory
is tucked back safely
though not before
I could steal my own
capture of his memories
of this moment shared.